Page 61 of Sweet Venom

“We’re getting on it?” I asked, finally finding my voice.

He nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips but maybe I’m imagining things because there’s no way he’s smiling. “Yes, Poe. How else will we get to our destination?”

“You mean we’re going out of the country?”

“Not quite.” He didn’t say anything else and then kept walking toward the jet, and I had no choice but to follow, even as I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking into the depths of some life-changing adventure.

By the time we were at the footsteps of the jet, I had come to one slightly terrifying conclusion: there was no going back. Whatever Azariel had in store for me, I was about to experience it firsthand, and there was no rational explanation for why I wasn’t turning around and running in the other direction.

“Come on,” Azariel said again, his voice smooth and commanding, and he stepped up into the jet without another word. I followed reluctantly, taking one last look at the city in the distance before stepping inside the luxurious, jet-black interior that matched the outside of the jet.

The inside was as dark and sleek as the exterior. There was just one difference. The seats were plush, deep leather, in a rich, blue shade. The walls were coated in what looked like high-end wood, polished to a mirror-like sheen. It was beautiful, but alsovery… blue. Huh. Just like his car. I for sure though Azariel’s favorite color was black with how much he wears it or maybe red for the color that reminds him of the blood he sucks out of people because yeah maybe my cousins are right he totally gives off hot vampire vibes and well American Psycho too. I never imagined it could be blue.

I absently touched my hair while I gave that more thought.

Azariel moved to one of the blue chairs and settled down like a king on his throne with his phone already in hand. I hovered by the door for a second, Prince nestled securely in my arms, before finally taking a seat next to him, my mind still trying to wrap itself around all of this. I spot in the corner the flying staff, two beautiful young women and one old guy with a belly and a long white beard. They give us curious glares before going about their business.

“What is this about, Azariel?” I asked, finally giving in to the burning curiosity that had been eating at me since we left my apartment. “Why are you doing this really? Why am I here?”

Azariel’s gaze was unwavering as he looked over at me. He wets his red lips and my eyes instantly follow the movement. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he replied, his voice low, almost...sultry.

Damn him.

The tension between us felt charged—like there was something more to it than just this crazy, unexpected flight. It was as if something was waiting for me wherever he was taking me. And as the jet began to lift off, I glanced out the window, watching the lighted city below us shrink away into the distance. I had no idea where we were going, or why I had got on this jet, but I knew one thing for sure: whatever it was, it was going to change everything between us.

And with every second that passed, I felt like not fighting it.

For the first time since I swore to never let Azariel back in my heart.

Shit.

Chapter

Twenty

MAYBE NOT SO HEARTLESS

Poe

“Even if it ruins me, I’ll always choose you.” – P

Miami.

Out of all the godforsaken places he could’ve taken me, I never expectedMiami.

The black van glided through the neon-lit streets, its tinted windows cloaking us from the world outside. A world that was too loud, too bright, too desperate to be seen. Miami didn’t whisper; it screamed.Look at me. I matter. I have money. I own this place.

It reeked of performance. A playground for the rich and famous.

Miami is beautiful. Undoubtedly so. But it didn’t feel real. I didn’t feel like me.

It made sense for him, though. For Azariel. Or at least for the ruthless businessman with the surgically perfect smirk and the tabloids constantly snapping at his heels. It made sense for the version of him the world devoured. The cold-hearted billionairewith sharp suits, sharp words, and a reputation built on lies and fake charisma.

But this city didn’t make sense for the boy I used to know. The one who thrived in the shadows, who vanished into silence like it was his home. Thatboydidn’t belong here.

So, what were we doing here?

He wouldn’t tell me where we were going at first. Not on the jet. Not even after we landed. Every question I threw his way was met with a cold stare. He sat across from me, focused on his phone like I didn’t exist. Like I wasn’t sitting there reeling from the emotional hand grenade my mother threw at me last week—the one that cracked the vault I’d buried my feelings for him in.